


The Beginning of the End

by The_Narwhal_Whisperer



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Crimes & Criminals, Detectives, F/F, M/M, Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-05-07 05:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14663973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Narwhal_Whisperer/pseuds/The_Narwhal_Whisperer
Summary: Dipper meets Bill once again after years. Dipper invites him into his home and they reminece on their past. Bill is involved with the Mafia and Dipper is a detective. What could go wrong?*I know this AU is probably overused as frick, but I like it so Imma write it!**also, I suck at descriptions so maybe read one or two chapters then choose to continue or not :3*~Thank you and enjoy!~





	1. C'est la Vie

The streets were cold and damp from the soft rain trickling down the dirty streets. Dipper walked through the cool air, each step splattering small puddles of water. He looked up at the night sky and a small smile creeped upon his lips. "Shit." He quickly placed his hand over the gun under his trench coat as he walked towards the noise. Dipper's training kicked in causing all of his senses to jerk forward to the voice of distress. 

"Who's there?" He followed the noise into the alley and nearly tripped over a pair of legs. They were attached to an unconscious man with yellow hair. His blood blended into the dark streets washed away by the rain. 

Dipper was quickly at ease as he swiftly reached down to feel for a pulse and look for any sign of life. The body felt warm, with a weak pulse and shallow breaths. The detective placed his arms underneath the male and lifted him up. Instead of taking him to a hospital, Dipper carried him the short remaining walk to his house. 

He placed Bill down on his couch and lit the fireplace before heading into his bathroom for a first aid kit. "What did you get yourself into this time?" He sighed and unbuttoned the man's shirt to reveal several gun shot wounds around his abdomen and arm. "Good thing you're unconscious." Dipper chuckled and began cleaning the wound with the iodine solution, proceeding to pull the bullets out one by one. He used two stitches for each of the four wounds and covered him up with a blanket after. "Goodnight."

As if on routine, Dipper set a glass of water on the counter and left for his bedroom. He was use to caring for him when they shared the house. That was years ago. Before they grew apart.


	2. Old Habits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After this chapter the story is going to shift to the past. You'll get to see the moments they met and how they ended up in the mess of a relationship that they are in now. I might do different POVs, but I'm not sure at the moment. Enjoy! :)

Bill woke up in a cold sweat and shot up to his feet. “Fuck.” He cursed, holding his abdomen in pain and slowly sitting back down. His eyes wandered around the warm house. Pale blue paint and a black couch he recognized all too well. Following a long sigh, Bill relaxed into the couch with the glass of water in hand. The cool liquid ran down his dry throat as he closed his eyes once again. It was seven thirty-six in the morning and he knew Dipper would be up soon, so Bill stood up and staggered around to the laundry room in search of a shirt. He made a quick detour to the bathroom to wash his face before grabbing a black shirt from the dryer.

Every corner he turned felt like a shot to the heart. The laundry room, where Dipper won the coin toss and bought the red washer. With a soft touch, he placed his rough, calloused hand on the white door. It creaked open ever so slightly and he peered in. There in that bed laid the love he had lost. Dipper was wrapped in the white sheets softly snoring. In that very room, Bill proposed to him. That would be the last time they spoke. The happiest night of their lives turned into a quarrel which they would never recover from. A smile crept up on Bill as he remembered the moments they shared. In front of him laid a peaceful Dipper. A memory that had been washed away and replaced by the last sight of him years ago. The sight he longed to forget, but whenever he closed his eyes all he could picture was Dipper screaming and crying, begging for everything to be a lie.

He shook the memories and proceeded to the door. Slowly but surely, he made it. As his hand touched the doorknob he heard soft footsteps walk into the room. “Bill?” His heart skipped a beat. Silence. Bill struggled to gather courage then turned around. Dipper’s brown locks were disheveled, revealing the birthmark on his forehead in the shape of a little dipper. There was a dense atmosphere forming as their eyes met for the first time in three years.

“Take care.” Bill managed to speak and walked out soon after. Dipper ran to the door and threw it open. He wasn’t going to let him walk away with the last words again. He looked around, finding Bill on the ground to his left with tears in his eyes. With a strong grip, he helped Bill back into the house and shoved him onto the couch. Grimacing, Bill opened his eyes and sat up. He braced himself for the moments to come.

“First of all: **fuck you**. Just fuck you Bill Cipher!” He cried out, pacing around the space in front of the couch. His fists were ready, but he knew better than to let out his anger physically. “W-What makes you think you have the fucking right to leave me after what you did?! You should be rotting in fucking jail!” Tears clouded his vision and the lump in his throat made it almost impossible to speak. “I-I loved you. . . I  **trusted** you!” He managed to choke those words out before completely breaking down. He let out those dreadful years of emotions he never got the chance to express. Years of anger boiling up inside.

“Dipper. . .I had to.” Bill stood up and wrapped his arms around his former lover. Dipper’s whole body was shaking with every sob and it didn’t take long for him to return the embrace. He was almost desperate for Bill’s touch, the feeling of home with the mere presence of Bill. “I’m sorry, Pine tree.” Dipper looked up at Bill and wiped the tears from his eyes.

“Me too” He pushed himself away and took a few deep breaths. Bill looked away and bowed his head in shame. All they could think about was that fateful night when life seemed...worthless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Have any comments or questions? Let me know!~


	3. Mabifica's Pub & Bakery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to try out Bill's POV! Again this is going back to the beginning when they first met!

After a long torturous day of, well, torture and murder a man deserves a drink. There’s this little pub/bakery a few streets down from my apartment open 24/7 that serves the best cheesecake and scotch to wash it all down. Pretty odd mix if you ask me, but hey it works right?

I walked into the pub and sat at my regular booth in the corner, my initials were even carved into the corner of the table. Mabel probably didn’t appreciate it, but she still lets me come here so she doesn’t hate it enough. Pacifica walked over to my table and tucked her blonde hair behind her ear. “Hey, yellow head. Want the usual?”

“As always.” She sat in the seat across from me and rested her chin on her hands.

“You look like shit. I mean more than usual of course.” I raised a brow and she gave me a cheeky smile. It’s not exactly surprising that I would want to drink myself into oblivion after murdering an innocent man.

“Just a long day.” I watched her shrug stand back up.

“Alright, I won’t pry; wouldn’t want to lose our favorite regular.” She left the booth and went to put in my order. After a few minutes, she was back with a glass of scotch and that cheesecake made by the heavens AKA Mabel Pines. “Enjoy.” Pacifica flashed me a smile and left to attend other tables.

If you haven’t figured it out by now, I work for the mafia. The boss isn’t the nicest, for several reasons, and sends us out to do his dirty work. He blackmails us to kill and torture or he murders the people we love. Well, at least that would be the case if I had a family. Rob adopted me from an orphanage when I was about 12. He raised me as a manipulative dirtbag, which I won’t deny I am. I’m basically on call for any crimes he may need committed or information he may need, which means I don’t do this very often. Since I am his ‘son’, he spares me most of the dirty work.

I finished up the last bite of cheesecake and began scrolling through my phone for any sort of distraction before my next drink arrived. “Hey there.” A stranger sat in front of me. He was wearing a brown trench coat with a button up shirt under. “Why do people kill? Huh? It’s like—*hic* why!?”

“Do I know you?” Does he know what I did?

“The name’s Dipper Pines the failure of a detective! I fucking failed! He died like—*hic* a few minutes after leaving my office! What the hell kinda luck is that?”

“Why do I need to know this?” He leaned in close and I caught a whiff of his alcohol tinged breath as he whispered.

“I got cut off, so buy me some booze or I’ll uh. . . I’ll arrest you!” Wow very straightforward. Pacifica set my scotch down and looked at the blushing Dipper.

“Do not let this idiot drink.”

“Sure thing, blondie.” She left, and I slid my glass to Dipper. “Shh, don’t tell.” He smiled widely before drinking my second glass.

“You look like a lemon. I’m taking this off—*hic* so don’t look.” Assuming he referred to his trench coat, I turned away and looked at the saltshaker in the shape of a pig (I wonder where they got those from). The salt came out from the nostrils, which seems painful, but where else would it come out from?

“Dipper!” Mabel popped out of nowhere and snatched the cup away from his hands. “Did you give him this, Bill?” I shrugged and took the cup back from her hands to drink the remaining alcohol. “Since you gave him a drink you get to take him home.”

“Why do you care about this dude anyway?” The detective turned to me looking a bit disappointed as he crossed his arms.

“He’s my twin.” I looked at the two side by side and yeah, I’m not too sure how I missed that they were related. They do look an awful lot like each other.

“No wonder he looked familiar! I’ll take care of him for ya.” She smiled and wrote down an address on a paper before handing it to me. I looked over at Dipper who was staring at me with a wondrous gaze. “Let’s get you home, buddy.” I winked at him and his face flushed red as he turned away. This is gonna be something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say thank you to everyone who has read this story! The comments I've gotten so far are awesome, so thank Y'all for the support and I'll try to keep these chapters coming soon! :3


	4. Prime Suspect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: I only write for fun, so the writing style or format isn't something you would usually find in conventional published books. I have the story mapped out in my head and it requires using multiple points of views, so if you don't like this kind of unusual writing style I would recommend not reading this story :(. However, I really hope ya'll stick by and enjoy!  
> Let's get back to the story!

Mable took my keys and shoved them in her pockets before kicking us out of her establishment. I guess it was for our safety, but I feel fine. Dipper’s arm was draped over my shoulder as he staggered around. I could only do so much to keep him from looking stupid walking down the sidewalk. “Do you have the key?” He reached into his pocket and fiddled with them before attempting to put it in the lock. “Why don’t I have a try?” Dipper nodded, and I opened the door for him. 

“Come inside for—*hic* a drink!” Oh hell no. I can’t trust this grown ass man to stop drinking in his own home. 

“No more alcohol.” He pulled at my jacket sleeve and pouted. I kid you not this man is the cutest fucker I’ve ever laid eyes on. He may have bags and look like he’s had the worst night of his life, but damn did he look good doing it. I obliged, and he lead me to the kitchen where he pulled a bottle of wine from the cabinet. 

“Open this please?” Dipper handed me the bottle and I put it right back where it belonged: not in his stomach. I grabbed a cup and filled it with nice alcohol-free water before handing it to him. “I gotta tell you a secret, but you can’t tell anyone.” He put the cup down and grabbed the collar of my shirt to pull me down to a manageable height. The warmth of his breath grazed along the sensitive skin on my neck as he whispered. “I like your hair.” There’s a first for everything; most people say it was a horrible choice. “. . .I dig it—*hic*” With those last memorable words, he fell limp in my arms. 

Dipper had this cute little snore as I carried him around looking for a bedroom. I opened a white door and there was a holy grail of messes. The carpeted room was littered with clothing and scraps of paper. There were several empty bottles on the counter and the bed was completely disheveled. When I set him down on the bed he groaned and tossed around. “Good night, Dipper.” He frowned and fell right back asleep. My phone began to buzz in my pocket. I knew exactly who it was. Every call made my skin crawl. With hesitation, I answered the phone and placed it to my cheek.

“Good job. Zac is taking the money to your apartment tomorrow morning.” The gruff voice sent shivers down my spine. He was inescapable, believe me, I’ve tried. From running away to faking my death, nothing works on the old man. So, I’m stuck in this business.

Occasionally, the thought of death scares me. Killing for a living isn’t something any sane person could possibly enjoy. Even then, it’s kind of like learning to ride a bike. Scary at first, but after a few times, it comes naturally. Although, every once in a while, there’s an intense feeling of guilt that overwhelms my every thought.

“Thanks.” Soon after that, he hung up and I threw my phone against the floor. The last time I saw father was six years ago when he asked me to kill my first victim. I was only 18. It wasn’t even legal for me to drink, yet I held a gun and was ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. He handed me a picture of a beautiful woman. She had shoulder length, jet-black hair; freckles sprinkled across her cheeks in an intricate pattern, and the most stunning hazel eyes. I knew better than to ask him questions, so I never asked who she was. 

“Bill?” Dipper interrupted my thoughts and sat next to me on his couch. “My head hurts.” I turned to face him and chuckled before he dropped his head on my shoulder. 

“Go back to bed. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, Dipper. Now shoo.” He stumbled back into the room and I sighed before laying down on his couch for a quick nap.

When I opened my eyes it seemed like I had only slept a second, but Dipper was standing at the end of the couch with a gun pointed straight at my head. “Good morning, sunshine.” He lifted the gun up and shot at his own fucking wall! My heart started racing as I shot up to my feet and held my hands in the air. 

“Who are you and what are you doing in my house?” 

“Last time I try to be nice!” He raised a brow and shook his head in confusion. 

Dipper walked closer and backed me up onto the wall. I looked down and saw the bits of paint chipped off from the gunshot on the floor around my shoes. “Answer my question!”

“I’m the stripper you ordered yesterday.” His entire face went blank and as the pigment slowly turned red. “Enjoy the show?”

He stuttered incoherently, and I began laughing. It was enjoyable watching him splutter nonsense as he tried to piece together what had happened. Dipper suddenly stomped his foot on the ground and turned around. “Bill.” 

“That’s me.” 

“Sorry. It’s all a blur.”

“Being held at gunpoint wasn’t exactly a warm thank you.” He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck before placing the gun down on the counter.

Dipper shrugged and let out a sigh. “Guess I’ve just been on my toes lately.” He headed into the kitchen. I followed behind wondering why I had never seen him before. The only reason I could possibly come up with was that I got plastered too often and my brain had the mental capacity of a newborn fish.

“Why haven’t I seen you around at Mabifica’s? I’d definitely remember a face like yours.” Dipper chuckled and turned around to face me. His pale cheeks gained a warm rose color as his hand attempted to cover his blush. 

“I-I’m usually there mornings.” His expression suddenly changed. It went from an awkward grin to a soft frown. I knew he didn’t want to show this kind of vulnerability to a stranger. 

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up. You already spilled the beans about it yesterday, so talk to me.” He leaned against the table and sighed.

“27, had a wife and a beautiful daughter. Unfortunately, he was a drug addict, a recovering addict for that matter. He was being watched for the past month before he came to my office. Whatever prick was with him must’ve known I would find them, so they took the easy way out and murdered him.” Pretending it wasn’t me who had murdered that guy was harder than I thought. Especially when I had those piercing brown eyes staring straight into my conscience. I didn’t want to kill him, but it also wasn’t my choice.

“Maybe it was for the best that he died. Gangs like them usually don’t let people off easy.” Dipper’s brows furrowed as he looked at me in disbelief. “We were good friends.”

He shook his head and frowned. “I guess you’re right.” As he walked past me I rested my hand on his shoulder. He paused when he felt my touch and looked over. 

“There was nothing you could’ve done.” He didn’t believe me as he nodded his head. I could tell by the familiar pain I saw in those eyes. “I’ll get out of your hair.” 

Dipper walked over to the door and lead me out. Right before I closed the door he pulled it back open and smiled. “Let me give you my number. I’ll repay the favor.” I handed him my personal phone and he put his number in my contacts. “Don’t be a stranger.” It would be best we remained that way. Getting close to people was always a risk I avoided at all costs. 

“Bye, Dipper.” I smiled and looked down at my phone before walking down the porch steps. 

‘Detective Pines’


	5. Know Your Opponent

“Yeah, I just don’t feel well today.” Dipper took a long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke out into the dewy morning air. “Alright, bye.” He threw the cigarette butt on the floor and stomped on it before walking back into his warm house to grab a coat. Ever since his client died, Dipper was lost. His mind clouded by intrusive thoughts of guilt.

Through the corner of his eye, he spotted a flip phone on the floor. Dipper raised a brow and brought the phone into his hand. His first thought was, ‘why the hell does Bill have a flip phone?’ Followed by, ‘only shady people use two phones.’ He clicked away through contacts and each of them were numbers instead of names. “Contact 1, Contact 2, Contact 3. . . what the hell is he up to?” Dipper whispered to himself before stuffing the phone in his trench coat pocket and making his way out of the house. 

A new case on his hands was just what he needed to distract himself without going back to the office of dreaded memories. With a swift hand, Dipper lit another cigarette and headed to his sister’s business. Many thoughts were racing through his mind. Perhaps Bill was a drug dealer, or maybe an illegal substance connoisseur, or it was just his grandmother's phone. Despite the reason, Dipper was determined to get to the bottom of it. “Get that out of your mouth.” He raised a brow and blew the smoke in her face. Pacifica’s blood boiled as she pulled it out of his mouth and gave him a flick on the head with her artificial nails. 

“Watch the attitude.” Dipper flashed her a smile and walked past to meet with Mabel. The two weren’t fond of each other. After years of high school tormenting his sister, it was hard to forget. Mabel may have forgiven Pacifica, but Dipper was yet to trust her. 

“Hey! Why aren’t you at work?” Mabel rushed out of the kitchen and gave her brother a big hug. 

“Hungover.” She giggled and pushed him playfully. “How often does Bill come in?” Mabel looked to the corner booth and back at her brother. 

“He’s a regular. Comes in around 10.”

“Lucky him, I’ve got all day. Thanks.” She smiled and headed back into the kitchen when she saw a waitress placing an order. Pacifica followed Dipper to the booth and sat across from him without a word. He looked up giving her a ‘what do you want’ glare. 

“You’re so much better drunk. What do you want from Bill?” 

“Just thanking him for yesterday.” She glared and slouched into her seat. “What?” Dipper rolled his eyes and grabbed the decorative menu before handing it to her. “I’ll have a black coffee.” She sighed loudly and stood up walking to Dipper’s side of the table. Pacifica leaned down and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Don’t fuck with him.” She snarled and made her way back to the kitchen. Dipper furrowed his brows and pulled the mysterious phone from his pocket as well as a notepad with a pen. He wrote down each number before calling the first contact. 

“What do you want? I’ve told you not to call me in the morning.” Dipper remained quiet. “Is this some sort of joke, Bill? If Zac didn’t deliver the money it is not my fucking problem.” The call ended, and Dipper frowned. It was Bill’s phone, but something was off. 

“Boring black coffee.” Pacifica placed the cup down and before she could leave Dipper grabbed her wrist. 

“How do you know him?” She stood still and rubbed her arm. 

“He has a dark past.” Dipper pointed to the seat across from him and she obliged to his gesture. “High school was a hard time for both of us. We seemed to only have each other. Just a couple of troubled teens who got high every chance there was.”

“So he dealt drugs?” Dipper hadn’t even noticed the guy went to the same school. To be fair, neither had Bill. After all, Bill had a full head of brown locks down to his shoulders hiding his face. Meanwhile, Dipper went through a similar ‘emo’ phase with straightened bangs covering the majority of his eyes.

“What? No... We got them from this other guy. Bill and I were kind of an item back in the day. Then we reconnected here. It turns out we had both grown from our past. Bottom line is: Bill means a lot to me, so please don’t scrutinize him. He’s had enough of that.” 

Dipper gave her a small grin. “Thanks for telling me.” 

After a short pause, Pacifica took the opportunity to confront Dipper. “You know I would never hurt Mabel, right?” He looked down at the pen in his hands, completely avoiding the question. “Dipper, I don’t expect you to forget what happened, but I’d like to move on. Mabel means the world to me.” She found herself smiling at the simple thought of Mabel.

“I’ll work on it.” That was all she needed. Pacifica smirked and got back to work while Dipper called each number. None of the others picked up. He was left with one piece of evidence and nothing more. 

“Dipper!” He looked up and a small girl ran over to his booth to give him a hug. Her mother dragged her feet as she walked to the small girl. The mother’s red locks were held up by a messy bun and there was mascara smudged around her once vibrant hazel eyes. Dipper frowned and stood up to greet the little girl. 

“Hey there champ!” He patted her head and looked up to meet the mother’s eyes. “How you holding up, Wendy?” 

“I’m here; aren’t I?” She chuckled to herself and a tear rolled down her pale, freckled cheeks. 

“Hey Bea, why don’t you go help Mabel in the kitchen?” The little girl nodded her head and skipped over to the counter. Dipper brought Wendy into his arms and she began crying on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.” He felt his eyes begin to water. 

“Don’t blame yourself, Dipper. He… he wouldn’t want that.” Dipper couldn’t help but think he could’ve done more. They wiped their tears and Wendy grabbed an envelope from her purse. “He wanted me to give you this if anything happened. I guess he knew this was bound to happen one way or another.” Dipper placed it into the pocket of his coat and looked back up to see Bill entering. The yellow-headed man glanced over to the two of them at his spot and sighed softly before heading over. 

“Hey…” Wendy turned around and gave Bill a strong hug. “It’s gonna be alright…” She looked up at Bill and smiled before kissing his cheek goodbye. 

“I’ll see you guys around. Beatrice! Let’s head home.” Mabel walked out with Bea in her arms holding a sloppily frosted cupcake. 

“Look mom! I made it for daddy when he gets home!” A pang of guilt his Bill as he dropped his gaze to the ground. 

“What’re you doing here so early?” Bill looked up at Dipper and proceeded to sit in his spot. 

“Mabel has my keys. Also, I was kinda hoping to see you.” Dipper grinned and sat down across from Bill who was fiddling with the salt shaker. Dipper noticed his vulnerability and decided it would be the perfect time to get more information from him. 

“Hey, wanna go out somewhere?” Bill put the pig down and cocked his head to the side with a questioning gaze. “Just thought maybe we could get to know each other better.”  
His piercing eyes met with Dipper’s and his smirk grew wider. “Sure thing, detective. In fact, why don’t we head over to my house and skip to what you really came for?” Bill dropped the grin and walked to Dipper’s side. He placed his hand on his chest and pushed him onto the seat slowly until he was practically laying on top with his knee in between Dipper’s legs. The detective blushed from ear to ear as Bill’s warm breath grazed his neck. Dipper wanted to push him away, but he had to keep Bill close.  
Suddenly the warmth was gone, and Bill stood up with his phone in hand. “It was written all over your face. I’m a suspect, aren’t I?” Dipper sighed and fixed his hair before standing across from Bill. 

“Am I that obvious?” He nodded and shoved the phone into his pocket. “Give me a good reason any normal person would carry an extra phone. A flip phone, might I add.”

“I manage a small business and I needed a work phone. Flip phones are inexpensive, and I only need it for calls, so why get a fancy one?” Dipper sighed and ran a quick hand through his hair.

“Fuck, I’m sorry again. Let me buy you a drink, my treat. Just not here. They would rip my head off before allowing me to touch alcohol again.” Bill pondered if it would be a good idea to let a detective into his life. Especially one that was so obviously indulged in his work, not to mention determined to find his clients murderer. Perhaps doing something mischievous would get Dipper’s mind off the investigation. Bill knew he had Dipper wrapped around his little finger since he was the only suspect. 

Bill smiled. “I have a better idea.”


	6. Chillax

“Just relax. It only hurts a bit.” Bill chuckled and slipped on some gloves. Dipper hugged the seat tightly and dug his face into the headrest. “Don’t tense up too much, princess.”

“Pfft yeah okay. This is totally fine. I’m fine. No problemo, I’ll relax. Chillax is my middle name, homie.” Words were running out of his mouth before his brain even had the time to process anything he was saying. Bill removed one glove and got the cigarette carton out from Dippers coat pocket. 

“Here, this will take the edge off.” Dipper took one in his mouth and lit it before trying to relax into his seat. “Ready?” Dipper nodded his head and took a long drag as Bill placed the glove back on and dipped the tip of the needle into the black ink. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” The needle pressed against his skin, and surprisingly it wasn’t as painful as he had initially anticipated. Soon he was able to relax completely and take in the feeling of an annoying vibration as a needle dragged across his skin. Bill drew a typical silhouette of the generic detective wearing the iconic Sherlock Holmes hat and smoking out of a pipe. The small figure was drawn inside of a magnifying glass to make it all the more tacky. “You do this often?”

“I’m usually the one getting the tattoo. My buddy works here, so I’m sure he won’t mind we broke in.” Dipper still felt wary about breaking and entering but brushed it off as he focused on the task at hand. 

“So, what business do you manage?” Bill cleared his throat and prepared to lie through his teeth.

“It’s a small shipping business for mostly brand merchandise. Anyway, how did you get into the whole Sherlock Holmes gig?” Dipper chuckled softly, noting what he said, before taking another drag of the cigarette and putting it out in the ashtray nearby. 

“My uncle was a private investigator and one summer he took me under his wing. I guess from then on I couldn’t get enough of the thrill.” He smiled, remembering that summer vacation in Gravity Falls with his con-man uncle. Dipper was always getting him out of trouble when he decided to get tangled with the wrong people. Although he was young, the future detective always found a way. Once he met his uncle Ford, everything fell into place. Dipper had a profession he knew would be enjoyable and thrilling. “You almost done?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty small. No more than 5 minutes.” As Bill finished filling in the tattoo, Dipper looked in a mirror and inspected Bill’s reflection. He had a full sleeve on his right arm of pyramids and demon like figures with a yellow and black color scheme. The one that stood out was on his bicep. It was a woman’s face, well half of one. Half was a cracked skull with what looked like a gunshot in the temple of the bone. Her other half was beautiful with one yellow eye, freckles forming constellations, and red lips sticking out most. Withering roses surrounded the woman as few vibrant pedals remained alive, resting on her curly locks. 

“Who’s that on your tattoo?” Bill’s expression quickly shifted into a pondering gaze as he tried to focus on the ink rather than the question. “Did I cross a line?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and sighed. “I guess you could say that.” Bill put down the machine and glanced at his tattoo. “She was my mother.” As the tension began to rise, Dipper turned to face his artist and gave him a weak smile.

“Did it come out okay?” Bill motioned for him to look in the mirror. 

“Have a look.” Dipper looked over his shoulder and smiled at the reflection. It was perfect. “The redness should go away in a couple of weeks.”

“It’s awesome. What do I owe you?”

“Bake me a cake and we’ll call it even.” Bill was a sucker for sweets. Any chance he could get his hands on sugar you bet he was on the case. “My favorite is chocolate with a fluffy frosting.” Dipper shrugged his shoulders as if it was no big deal even though he could barely manage to boil water without burning down his kitchen. “Asking Mabel to make it doesn’t count.”

“Geez, did you read my mind?” He chuckled and slipped his shirt back on before standing up. “Let’s get outta here before someone catches us.” 

“Rodger that.” Suddenly, the lights flickered on and they both froze in their tracks. 

“Too late.” The man stated before walking towards them with a baseball bat. Bill jumped to his feet and threw a mask to Dipper. He quickly placed it on and snatched his coat before hiding under a counter with Bill. 

“I thought you said your friend owned this?” He whispered anxiously as Bill smiled under his mask. 

“I just said that so you wouldn’t freak out. I owe this guy for a few tattoos.” Dipper punched Bill in the arm and felt a surge of adrenaline rushing through his body as the large steps grew closer. “On the count of three, we jump over this counter and go for the door. Every man for themselves, don’t even try to fight this guy. Trust me.” Dipper swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. Although he had his fair share of run-ins with criminals, he was never the one committing the crime. It felt like a new kind of excitement he wasn’t sure was enjoyable. “One... two... three!” They both jumped over and brushed past the man. He began running after them and managed to grab the end of Dipper’s coat.  
“Fuck!” He grunted as he tried pulling himself from the man’s grasp. The bat dropped to the floor and in his hand was a switchblade. “Awe, come on!” Dipper whined as the man made a final pull on the coat, causing Dipper to jerk forward into his grasp. The man dropped the coat and grabbed on tightly to Dippers collar. He pushed him up against the wall and Dipper grunted in pain as his head hit the concrete. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” The man spat on Dipper’s face as he asked the question, moving the blade towards his ear. “Answer me, fucker!” The cold blade touched the flushed skin on his ear as Dipper’s mind rushed for an answer and an escape. If only he had his gun. Dipper had left it in the car so Bill would feel more at ease— bad idea. “You’ve got three seconds to answer before I cut this ear off!” Dipper struggled to release himself from the man’s grasp, but it was no use. He was twice his size and had the upper hand. “One... two—”

“Three, let the dude go.” The man shifted his gaze to Bill who was leaning against the doorway dangling a gun between his index finger and thumb. “He owes me a cake.” The man pressed the blade harder against his skin, causing Dipper to jerk back as it began to cut. Bill winked at Dipper before putting down the gun and taking out a lighter. “Oh, Zanthar.” The man began to look confused as Bill brought out a box. “Would you look at that. Now how did I get my hands on these?” The man looked distraught, however, kept a strong hold on Dipper. “Are you hoping this is enough? You know better than that, my boy.” A devilish grin played on Bill’s delighted face as he pulled out wads of cash from the box. “Let him go, and I’ll forget this ever happened. Maybe this lighter will find its way back into my pocket? What do ya say?” 

Dipper took the opportunity to snake out of his hold and knock the knife away from him. He quickly rushed for the gun Bill had put down and pointed it at the man who then placed his hands in the air. “You’ve poor judgment skills. Perhaps next time don’t fuck with me to begin with.” Dipper used his free hand to grab the coat.

“NO!” The man fell to his knees as Bill threw the lighter into the box, causing the money to set ablaze. “Fuck you, Bill Cipher!”

“Adieu.” Bill laced his arm with Dipper’s and dragged him out of the tattoo shop back to the car. The detective remained in awe as he drove in the direction of his home. 

“What in the actual fuck was all that about?”

“Had to get aggressive if your ear was at stake. I found that stuff in a safe and used it against him. It’s not rocket science, pine tree.” There were holes in his story. So many that Dipper could think of: how did he find a safe, how did he get it open, why was it so natural for Bill to lie?

“I guess.” He removed the mask and recollected his thoughts. Bill knew he had gone overboard, but sometimes it felt like another person took over him. If Dipper was suspicious before, that had multiplied times 1000. Bill needed to be on his best behavior from now on. No more Mr. Bad guy. Excuses could only get him so far. “Why was that guy so angry?”

“My dad loves picking fights with people.” Dipper nodded and pulled up into his driveway. “I’ll walk home from here.” They exited the car and he placed his hand on Bill’s shoulder.

“You saved my favorite ear. At least stay for a movie.” Bill silently cursed as Dipper began opening the door. They walked into the living room and Dipper got them a couple of drinks before opening Netflix. “So, you have any relatives?” The grin on Bill’s face grew wider before taking another drink from the bottle. He shook his head and turned to face the shorter man sitting beside him. Dipper had his legs crossed on the couch and a beer in his hand. 

“Are you interrogating me, Mr. Pines?” Dipper rolled his eyes and bit his bottom lip before raising a hand to Bill’s cheek.

“So, what if I am?” Shivers went down his spine as Dipper grazed his thumb along Bill’s bottom lip. The reason for seducing him was obvious, and Bill knew very well what the detective was attempting to do. The criminal would never open up about himself, no matter how much Dipper bugged him about it. Thing is, he already had a story for himself. A fictional narrative of his life and the people around him. No one had been able to crack him so far; every single detail had been built to perfection. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

Bill sighed with pleasure before setting down his and then Dipper’s drink. “I’d tell you what I want to do, but why don’t I just show you?” This was more than he had bargained for. Dipper swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to look as comfortable as he could for wanting to jump out of a window. “Detective?” 

“Y-yes?” He managed to croak as Bill leaned closer. Dipper shut his eyes tight in anticipation. When nothing happened, he opened one and noticed Bill sitting back in his spot with the remote in hand. 

“Let’s watch a horror movie.” Dipper cursed to himself in disappointment before obliging and leaning back to watch the movie begin. There had to be a way to get Bill to open up, or even confess to his crimes. Part of Dipper doubted his suspicions, but the other half believed with every fiber that Bill was responsible for his client’s death.


End file.
